


hello from the other side

by allhalethekings



Series: hello au [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Derek-centric, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 01:34:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6779872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allhalethekings/pseuds/allhalethekings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek leaves because he couldn’t take the smell of burnt ashes and thick smoke curling around the earth below his feet. He leaves because when he walked through the halls of his old high school, he could hear the faint whispers of Paige calling his name. </p><p>He leaves because when he went to the hospital, he could see small feet shuffling excitedly down the hall of the maternity ward to welcome a new addition to the family. He leaves because one day he looked around him and realized he would never be able to escape it all; Beacon Hills would suffocate him, slowly, painfully, if he stayed.</p><p>It takes three months of being on the road to make him realize he left his heart in Beacon Hills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hello from the other side

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly couldn’t step away from this verse and felt like there should be a little something from Derek’s POV as well. Many thanks to the lovely sinyhale for the beta <3

Derek leaves because it gets to be too much.

It wasn’t because of the bad guys. It wasn’t because every time he looked at Scott he saw everything Derek could have been if only he was given a chance. It wasn’t because Cora left as soon as the Alpha pack broke down, choosing to return to her new family in South America. And  it certainly wasn’t because of a certain teenager who was forced to grow up a decade in the span of two short years.

Derek leaves because he couldn’t take the smell of burnt ashes and thick smoke curling around the earth below his feet. He leaves because when he walked through the halls of his old high school, he could hear the faint whispers of Paige calling his name.

He leaves because when he went to the hospital, he could see small feet shuffling excitedly down the hall of the maternity ward to welcome a new addition to the family. He leaves because one day he looked around him and realized he would never be able to escape it all; Beacon Hills would suffocate him, slowly, painfully, if he stayed.

So he packs up the remains of his life in a duffle bag, hands over the keys to his building to the Sheriff for the time being, and takes off with Braeden when she asks, welcoming the distraction.

It takes three months of being on the road to make him realize he left his heart in Beacon Hills.

* * *

Eventually, chasing down the mystical Desert Wolf gets old. Not because he doesn’t think they can’t do it, but because it makes him feel too much like a hunter so he parts ways with Braeden when they cross over back into Arizona.

Derek hates the dry heat of Arizona - feels like he’s boxed in a cage - so he leaves after spending just a couple of days, crossing back into California without thinking. He passes by a bookstore on his way into Tacna, a small town with less than a thousand people, and wanders inside.

Aside from the old lady, the bookstore is empty. When he steps in, she looks at him suspiciously at first and then, as if he passed a test, she smiles at him with big pearly whites. The entirety of the small store is brimming with books; from the shelves that line the walls to the books that have spilled over onto the ground, stacked precariously in towers.

“What’s a sweet little thing like you doing in this town?” Derek hears from behind him and he swivels around to see the old lady smiling at him.

“Just passing through,” he murmurs, giving her a small smile back. “On my way into California.”

She nods, looking at him thoughtfully. He feels a tad unnerved at the way she looks at him, like she’s boring into his soul but she’s human so he lets it go. She cocks her head to the side, like she’s trying to figure something out, before giving a satisfied nod.

“Follow me,” she says, brushing past him, deeper into the store. Derek frowns but follows her nonetheless. “I know exactly what you need.”

“I—“

“Don’t argue,” she says immediately. They stop at the very back shelf; Derek stands behind the old lady awkwardly as she skims over the wide array of books in front of them. He looks at the books on the shelves, notes that they’re in the young adult section. He wants to tell her he’s not really interested in any of these books but she reminds him of his grandmother and well - you don’t say no to your grandmother.

After a minute, she grabs two books, dusts them off, before shoving them at his chest. Derek stumbles back, surprised.

“These. You buy these,” she says and walks away to the front of the store again. Derek stands there for a bit, unsure of whether or not he should buy them. He contemplates just putting them on the shelf but—he looks at what she chose for him: _The Giver_ by Lois Lowry and _The Humans_ by Matt Haig.

He ends up buying them both.

* * *

Three hours later, Derek ends up in San Diego. He has only one matter of business here.

He’s got to see a guy about his Camaro.

* * *

Sometimes he wonders what everyone is up to back home. He wonders if Beacon Hills found its calm yet. He wonders if he should go back and visit, if only for a day and if only to make sure they don’t need him.

He gets as far as Sacramento before his chest begins to seize and breathing starts getting harder. His fingers clamp around the steering wheel tightly and minutes later, he makes a sharp U-turn and returns to Los Angeles.

* * *

He wonders about Stiles. Even picks up his phone scrolls to his name on his Contacts list.

But he doesn’t call.

Besides, what would he even say?

* * *

Derek stays in LA for a month. He thinks a big city would be the answer to his problems; he’d be able to hide away from everyone, he’d be left alone to his devices, he’d be able to disappear in the crowd.

He’s wrong.

The scents are too overwhelming, not quite right, and people stare at him wherever he goes. In New York, he didn’t care about the staring. He wanted to forget what he and Laura left behind, whatever means necessary.

In LA, he doesn’t need any of that.

So when Nate, the old friend who kept his Camaro for him, tells him he’s moving to South Lake Tahoe with his fiancee and their three-year old, Derek follows.

He tells himself he’s only in Tahoe to help Nate move in and maybe stay for the housewarming.

But then he breathes in the crystal clear air and takes a walk along the Keys, staring longingly at the wide expanse of the woods in front of him and something in him settles.

It’s the first time breathing doesn’t seem like a chore.

* * *

Turns out Nate had moved to Tahoe to take care of his parents, who were nearing their seventies and needed someone around. They take one look at Derek, at his Camaro and his leather jacket, at how he holds himself around new people—all tense and rigid—and unofficially adopt him into their little family.

Nate’s mother, Lilian, pinches his cheek, comments on how a growing boy like him shouldn’t be living out of fast food restaurants. Derek bites his tongue, wanting to say that he’s not a growing boy - he’s almost twenty-five, thank you very much.

But she doesn’t let him reply. Instead, she takes one look at him, raking her eyes up and down, and mutters, “An attractive boy like you should be settling down, not traipsing around the world in a car like that!”

Behind her, Nate covers his mouth, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“What’s wrong with my car?” he asks, because there is no way he’s parting with his Camaro.

“It’s a health hazard! Besides, it’s time for you to settle down. How are you going to put a child seat in that?” Lilian huffs. “Now don’t just stand there like a bear. Start setting the table!”

Derek is too stunned to even say anything (but does as she asks).

Nate gives him a sly smile when he walks Derek to the door late that night. “You know she just adopted you as her next project, right?”

“Project for what?”

“To give her grandkids,” Nate explains, making Derek choke.

“I just met her!”

“Doesn’t matter. They always wanted a second kid but couldn’t have one. Now that she’s met you, she wants to keep you,” Nate laughs, slapping Derek on the back. “Welcome to the family.”

Derek stares at him, horrified, but there’s a small flicker of happiness curling in his stomach.

It’s been a long time since he’s been mothered over like that.

* * *

He lives with Nate and his fiancee, Eliza, for a couple of days while he goes hunting for apartments. In the end, he finds a nice little place above a family-run coffee and bookstore, _The Menagerie_ , in the heart of town.

Mrs. Hudson, who owns the store, had offered him the apartment the second he mentioned he was looking for a place and did she have a newspaper with apartment listings. Like Lilian, Mrs. Hudson took one look at him and said Derek doesn’t need the listings because she has an apartment right above and it was his if he agreed to work for her.

He tries to tell her that she doesn’t need to do that but she simply waves her hand, dismissing him.

“Oh, shush you,” Mrs. Hudson says, already digging through her purse for the keys. She hands them over with a flourish and Derek stares at them, dumbfounded. “My son used to live up there, you see, but he just moved to Los Angeles for a job so that room’s free. So it’s yours if you want it, dear.”

Derek looks between the keys in his hand and at Mrs. Hudson’s smiling face and manages to give a small nod. She gives him a satisfied nod.

“Good. Now, we have a couple of kids working here right now so I’ll find someone to train you on all the machines. You look like a smart fella, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble at all!”

As Derek takes the stairs to the apartment upstairs from the side alley, he smiles to himself, feeling more content than he has in a long time.

* * *

After that, things fall into place relatively quickly. The apartment is pretty nice and spacious, too big for Derek but he likes that he can use the space to make it his own. Over the next couple of weeks, more books find their way into the apartment and slowly, the kitchen cabinets get stocked with various protein bars, spices, teas, and even a box or two of Reese’s peanut butter cups.

He puts up a few pictures of Cora and the pack he’d saved on his phone on the fridge. The walls are a bit bare for his liking but it’s okay; the apartment will grow with him.

Derek tries to give Mrs. Hudson some money but she merely rolls her eyes and shoves the cheque back into his chest and tells him to stop “being stupid”. In exchange, Derek starts mowing her lawn, cleaning up the yard, fixing the broken porch step, and whatever else he can think of. In return, she always brings him into the house and feeds him a plate of cookies with a glass of milk.

Sometimes Derek can’t believe he’s allowed to feel so light. Other times, he just waits for the other shoe to drop.

* * *

One of Derek’s favourite things to do is to drive up to one of the resorts and grab a seat by the viewing deck for some quiet. Tourists bumble about around him, his ears filling with vacationing plans and how lovely the mountains are this time of year. He doesn’t talk to many of them but he agrees silently; the best family trips he and his family used to take were up North to the forest where they could enjoy the calm of nature. Being out there amidst the woods, nothing made him feel more alive than to breathe in all the musty, earthy scents and realizing how his heart settled into his chest.

So he makes it a weekly thing. He takes off early Sunday morning, runs wildly in the forest surrounding the Keys and by mid-morning, he finds himself at either a hiking trail along the mountains or an observation deck at one of the resorts.

As weeks pass into months, Derek gets into a routine. Every weekday he wakes up early and opens the coffee shop with either Conan or Brian; he starts setting up for the day while the other heads into the kitchen to sift through the pastries delivered by the local bakery one block over, prepping all the syrups, the pastry case, starts the gentle sounds of cafe music to wash his thoughts over. An hour later, Liz, a feisty girl who reminds him too much of Erica, joins them and they wait for the morning rush to carry them through to the afternoon.

By three in the afternoon, Derek is out the door and back to his apartment to change so he can go for a run through town. He comes back after an hour or two, face glistening with sweat, hair plastered to his forehead, and a good ache in his legs. He checks in on the coffee shop again and heads to Mrs. Hudson’s house to see if there’s anything he can do for her. Sometimes he sits in a small nook by the back of the shop and reads and other times he goes to Nate’s house and plays with his son, Sebastian, before finishing off the day with dinner with them. Eventually, he returns to his apartment and grabs a book to read in bed with some hot tea.

Every night he falls asleep with much the same thoughts circling in his mind. He thinks of how content he is in Tahoe, how he’s only now remembering what unconditional happiness feels like, how utterly thankful he is that he gets to walk around town without having to constantly look over his shoulder.

And then he begins to think about everyone who doesn’t get that same luxury. He thinks of Scott, of Lydia, of Kira, of Melissa, and the Sheriff. Mostly though, he thinks of Stiles; Is he still okay? Is he still crushing under the all the guilt? Are he and Malia still together?

(He then pretends his heart doesn’t jolt at _that_ thought.)

In the end, he plays around with his phone all too much those nights, fidgeting with the screen, shoves it under his pillow before fishing it out again, pausing just before his thumb presses down on the _Call_ icon beside Stiles’s name. Like every other night, he decides against it and slides his phone back on the night table, falling asleep to the thought of Stiles.

He never calls.

* * *

Before he realizes it, it’s almost November and Nate’s shoving a small birthday invitation at his chest for Sebastian’s fourth birthday.

“You have to come, obviously,” Nate says.

“Oh, I have to?” Derek asks even though he was never going to decline the invitation.

Nate looks at him out of the corner of his eyes. “Not only is my son currently obsessed with your wolf stories, my mother has been repeatedly asking me for updates on your life.”

“She doesn’t want t—“

Nate laughs. “Oh definitely. The past few times she’s called me it’s to tell me she found just the perfect person for you.”

Derek flushes. “I—really—that’s not—“

“Don’t worry, I told her you’re gone on a young fella back home.”

“Nate!”

“She wants to meet him, obviously, so expect tons of questions. She’ll grill you extra since she can’t meet him just yet.”

“ _Nate!_ ”

Nate cackles all the way to his car.

* * *

Thing is, Nate’s not exactly wrong.

Derek knew the second he told Nate about Stiles, he’d figure it out. For one, he’s a shitty liar even though he’s a damn werewolf. For another, he’s known Nate since freshman year of college so he knows Derek better than Derek would like to admit. To his credit though, Nate never pushed. Aside from some light teasing, he’d kept most comments to himself, knowing all too well of Derek’s history when it came to relationships.

Back to the point - Nate’s not wrong.

It took a while for Derek to figure it out. He thinks it’s probably while he was out hunting the Desert Wolf with Braeden; somewhere in the time spent on the road, the realization that Derek might be a little in love with Stiles hit him like a mack truck. It was on probably one of those nights when Braeden was sleeping quietly in the cheap motel room they’d rented and Derek had gone out for a walk late that night.

Derek had walked along the quiet streets of the small downtown-like area of the city, eager to stretch his legs after hours of sitting still in the car. He’d looked up at the clear night sky, looked at how the stars glowed in the darkness, painting the sky prettily and all he could think of was how much those stars reminded him of the constellation of moles dotting Stiles’s jaw.

He thinks about how much his heart has been aching lately and how that ache has nothing to do with losing his family or Erica and Boyd and everything to do with losing a certain outspoken, obnoxious teenager. He thinks about how much Stiles reminds him of Laura, how well they would have gotten along, how well Stiles would have fit in with the rest of his family.

It was somewhat of a mind-shattering realization, one that he was ill-prepared to handle at the time and really, it’s a wonder that he even made it back to the motel, lost in his thoughts as he was, wondering how Stiles got under his skin long enough to make his home there forever.

For a long time, Derek had no idea what he should do; should he go back to Beacon Hills and tell him or should he let Stiles live his life like a normal person? In the end, he chooses the latter. As much as he wants to be with Stiles, he knows Stiles’s priorities lie in Beacon Hills and try as he might, Derek can’t stand to go back.

Besides, Stiles deserves a shot at a normal relationship. He deserves to be with someone who doesn’t have the emotional baggage of a small country, someone who would shield him from the pain, someone who could provide him with solace from the supernatural bullshit. Stiles deserves a normal life with a normal human; he deserves more than Derek.

So as much as he wants, Derek never calls. Instead he just hopes that wherever Stiles is, he’s found some inkling of peace and normalcy.

* * *

For Sebastian’s birthday, they drive up to a campground by Fallen Leaf Lake. It’s a short drive from the Keys and one of their last chances to enjoy the area before it gets to be unbearably cold.

The whole day is an absolute delight for Derek. Aside from Lilian asking him question after question about Stiles and why Derek is stupid enough to leave the boy he so obviously loves back home, it’s easily one of Derek’s favourite days since moving to Tahoe. He spends the day chasing Seb around the campgrounds, loves the sound of joy and laughter coming from the kid.

When they form a small circle around Seb and the cake, dutifully singing the birthday song, Derek feels a small pang in his stomach as memories of celebrating his little cousins’ birthdays spread through his mind like wildfire. He’ll deny it forever but when Seb leans down to blow out the candles, joyfully clapping his hands, Derek’s eyes mist over and a fierce protective instinct bubbles in him.

He might have failed the last time but he’ll protect his family this time, no matter what it takes.

* * *

That night Derek almost texts Stiles. _We celebrated Seb’s third birthday today. I wish you were here_.

He doesn’t press _Send_.

* * *

A couple of weeks later when he has dinner with Nate’s family again, Nate gives him a stack of printed photographs. Most of them are prints from the disposable camera Nate and Eliza had given to Seb for the day. Others are a couple of polaroids from the instant camera Lillian had been trotting around with.

“Take the ones you like, yeah?” Nate says, smiling. He claps Derek on the shoulder, leaving him on the couch to look through the pictures. Most of them are of Seb; Seb blowing out the candles, Seb touching the water in the lake, Seb grinning in Eliza’s arms, Seb taking a nap in the backseat of the car.

But there are a few of Derek too; Derek holding Seb smiling, Seb teaching Derek about the different leaves on the ground, Derek talking to Eliza, and so on. The last one though, that one’s a bit different. They’d taken two cars up to the campground - Lilian’s more sensible SUV, and since there wasn’t enough space for Derek in there after loading up all the food and equipment, and Derek’s Camaro. The last polaroid was of Derek sitting on the hood of the Camaro, leaning back on his elbows.

Derek knows it’s him but he’s still taken aback by the simplicity of the picture; he skims the photograph with his thumb, only just realizing how content he’s been since coming to Tahoe. After all, it’s one thing to feel it every time Mrs. Hudson feeds him cookies and it’s another to see that feeling manifest itself physically.

“Uncle Derek?” Seb tugs on his jeans. Derek looks down and laughs. Seb’s wearing the LA Dodgers hat backwards, one that Derek had gotten for him for his birthday. Derek had put it on him the right way at the campsite but Seb had immediately wrinkled his nose at him and flipped it backwards in one fluid motion before running off. “Mommy says it’s time for dinner.”

“Ok, little buddy,” Derek answers, expecting Seb to run off into the kitchen but he doesn’t. He slides a few of the photographs in his back pocket and puts the rest on the coffee table before leaning down and lifting Seb into his arms. Almost instantly, Seb winds his arms around Derek’s neck and rubs his face on his jaw, making Derek chuckle as he carries the little tyke into the dining room.

Sometimes, the kid acts more wolf than human and for the life of Derek, he can’t figure out why or how. Not that Derek cares; he loves it, even smirks at Nate when he catches Seb doing it.

* * *

When he gets home later that night, he puts the photograph of him on the Camaro in the middle of _The Humans_ as a bookmark.

Throughout the month, Derek wonders about whether or not he should send Christmas presents to the pack back home. Every time he goes to the mall and sees something he _knows_ Lydia would like or something Scott would love, he buys it. Slowly, his living room becomes cluttered with various knick knacks, comic books, Xbox games, and some shirts Malia would undoubtedly find hilarious.

By the end of November, knowingly or unknowingly, he’s gotten Christmas presents for everyone in the pack; Lydia, Kira, Scott, Isaac, Malia, Liam, and even Mason. Derek spends a full weekend carefully wrapping each present in brown paper, tying the packages carefully with twine. It doesn’t occur to him until he’s sitting and wrapping all the presents that he also got something for Erica, Boyd, and Allison.

He takes a deep breath, ignores the pang in his stomach, and keeps wrapping. It seems odd to send their presents to their families; he doesn’t want to bring bad memories back to the surface so he’ll probably donate those presents to the charity that Liz volunteers for.

And then he sits there stumped, because he’s wrapped a present for everyone. Everyone but Stiles.

Truth be told, there wasn’t anything that really called out to Derek when he was shopping for Stiles. Anything material like video games or plaid shirts or even baseball hats seemed too impersonal for Stiles. The only thing he’d managed to find that reminded him of Stiles was a small keychain of a wolf howling at the moon. It’s beautifully detailed and intricate in every way that Derek knows Stiles would treasure.

The next weekend, he borrows the instant camera from Lillian and goes for a long walk through the woods by the Keys, armed with a small disposable camera, intent to take a few pictures of the mountains. If anything, the walk would clear his head enough for him to get an idea of what to get for Stiles. He takes a few pictures of the mountains, the clear blue water of the lake, the sun’s rays beaming down on the water.

With every photograph he takes and shoves into his back pocket, the idea slowly forms in his mind. Derek was on the right path from the beginning; Stiles doesn’t deserve anything impersonal; he deserves something that holds meaning.

When he goes home, he digs through his books until he finds his family’s bestiary, an old leather-bound journal with a triskelion embossed on it. Derek runs a hand over the triskelion before opening the journal and putting a yellow sticky note on one of the pages, _This is my family’s bestiary. Hope it helps_. Next, he fishes out the books the old lady in Tacna gave him and writes notes for those before tucking them inside; _This book reminds me of you, a spark of colour that brightens the world around you_ for _The Giver_ and _This book helped me find my happiness. I hope it helps you find yours. -Sourwolf_ for _The Humans._

Derek smirks to himself - Stiles will appreciate the Sourwolf comment. He fishes out the polaroids from his back pocket and puts some of those in the box as well. He’s about to close the box and wrap it when he looks at the polaroid of him on his Camaro he’d put up on the fridge. Before he can talk himself out of it, he adds the polaroid to the box as well after writing a simple _Hello from the other side_ on the back.

He doesn’t bother explaining; Stiles will understand well enough.

The next morning, he mails all the presents.

* * *

Derek spends Christmas Eve at Nate’s house. They have a small dinner since Nate’s family saves the big dinner for Christmas Day and they each open one present from under the tree, saving the rest for the next morning.

He laughs uproariously when he sees Seb’s present for him - a small bobblehead of Derek’s favourite baseball player, Derek Jeter - and hugs the kid tightly.

“Thank you, Seb,” he murmurs as he lets go. Seb grins at him, two dimples forming on either side of his face, and leans up to kiss Derek on the cheek.

“You’re welcome, Uncle Derek!”

The next morning, he wakes up to an unusually quiet house. It’s Christmas Day and almost nine in the morning at that, there’s no reason for a house with a three-year old to be so deathly quiet. His heart begins to beat loudly in his chest and he throws the comforter off himself, rushing out the guest room and down the stairs.

He’s almost ready to wolf out when he hears a faint giggle from the living room. Heart still thudding in his chest, he’s barely entered the living room when—

“ _HAPPY BIRTHDAY, UNCLE DEREK!”_

 _—_ Seb practically leaps into his chest from the back of the couch and Derek thanks all the Gods above that he’s got the reflexes of a werewolf as he catches Seb in his arms.

It’s then that he notices all the streamers hung around the room and a small cake on the coffee table in the middle of the room. Nate, Eliza, Lillian, David, and even Mrs. Hudson stand behind the table laughing and clapping. Derek closes his eyes, taking a deep breath - _it’s okay, they’re all safe. It’s okay._

When he opens his eyes again, he sees Nate becoming nervous but Derek smiles, large and wide, and Nate smiles back, relieved.

“Are you surprised, Uncle Derek?” Seb asks loudly right into his ear and he nods.

“Very surprised! Who told you it was my birthday, little man?”

See giggles and points to Eliza. “Mommy knows everything!”

Eliza winks at him and he chuckles. “Yeah, moms always know everything, don’t they?”

“Uncle Derek! We have to cut your cake now and you get to make a wish and then you get to open all the presents!” Seb demands and squirms his way out of Derek’s grip. He takes Derek’s hand in his, pulls him towards the table with the cake, and all but shoves him on the couch. Before Derek can say anything, he pretty much crawls under the coffee table and comes up with a very obviously homemade crown. Derek can’t help it, he laughs again.

“Is this for me?” Derek asks, smiling so wide he thinks his face will break. Seb nods happily and climbs on the couch. As if on cue, Derek leans down and Seb carefully places the birthday crown on his head before crawling into his lap again. Derek kisses the top of his head. “Thank you, Seb. Would you like to blow out the candles with me?”

Seb gasps, like Derek’s said something utterly blasphemous.

“Uncle Derek, I can’t do that! It’s your birthday and you hafta blow the candles! Or else the wish won’t come true!” In front of them, Nate snorts into his coffee.

“Yeah, Derek, _duh_ ,” he teases.

“Okay, okay,” Derek allows. He leans forward and closes his eyes, making a show of thinking of the perfect wish. It’s easy, of course. He’s wished for the same thing on every birthday since he and Laura first celebrated his birthday in the dingy little apartment in New York almost ten years ago. _Please protect my family and keep them happy._

Derek opens his eyes and blows out the candles.

* * *

Amidst all the meals and him running around with Seb all day, he starts to think about Stiles. More than once, he’d fished out the phone from his pocket and stared at it, wondering if he should at least send a message wishing him Merry Christmas. The presents should have been delivered to Scott’s house by now and Melissa should have placed them under the Christmas tree, as promised after their brief phone call. Instead, he decides against it and focuses on spending the day playing with Seb and all his new toys.

Dinner is a rambunctious affair. There may only be seven of them but Lillian and Mrs. Hudson get along great to Derek’s chagrin and Nate’s amusement, both of them largely focusing on Derek’s lack of a partner.

“I’ve been telling him since the first day,” Lillian sniffs while Mrs. Hudson pats her hand in agreement. “I’ve always wanted grandkids.”

Derek stares at her, horrified. “You have the one!” He points to Seb.

Lillian rolls her eyes. “Well I want more than one and God knows Nate refuses to give me that.”

Eliza snorts. “One is more than enough for us,” she chirps.

“I know what you mean, dear.” Mrs. Hudson nods, ignoring Derek sputtering. “He can be a stubborn fella.”

“ _He_ is sitting right here,” Derek hisses, narrowing his eyes at them. It’s almost frightening how much they remind him of Laura and Cora.

“Well _he_ should take the hint then,” Lillian huffs.

Nate forgoes any attempt of laughing discreetly and all out guffaws.

* * *

That night, he’s almost finished washing up before bed when his phone rings. Derek picks up without even looking, thinking it’s Nate.

“Hello?”

He hears a deep breath and it’s all too clear it’s not Nate. “Hello, it’s me.”

“Stiles?”

A small huff. “Yeah, asshole, who else?”

Derek grips the sink counter, ignores the running water. “Um - merry Christmas,” he says lamely, rolling his eyes at himself.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say for yourself?”

“I - uh - did you get my presents?”

“Derek, I swear to God—,” Stiles breaks off. Derek hears feet shuffling on the other side and the sound of a door opening and closing. “Fuck. Do you realize how much you — fuck, I can’t even —“

Another deep breath.

Derek shuts his eyes and steadily ignores the way his heart is pounding in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into the phone.

“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

That throws him off because it’s obvious. “Leaving.”

Stiles snorts. “No, dumbass. We all understood why you left. We just didn’t think when you left with Braeden that it’d be the last time we’d see you.”

Derek’s throat dries. “What?”

“Derek, we just - we just wanted to know you were going to be alright, y’know? If Braeden hadn’t kept us in the loop, we’d have no idea.” Braeden neglected to mention any of that.

“So you knew where I was,” Derek reasons, turning off the water because he doesn’t want to think about how much water he’s just wasted. He shuts the light off in the bathroom and pads into his room, getting under the covers.

“No,” Stiles denies immediately. “She never told us where, just that you were okay. That’s all we really cared about anyway.” Before Derek can think of how to respond to that, Stiles keeps going. “Listen man, we just - listen, you have this frustrating tendency to just jump into things, alright?” Derek’s eyebrows shoot up, Stiles tone just skyrocketed from calm and nervous to slightly angry.

“Um—,” Derek says but Stiles cuts him off again.

“No, listen! You’re awesome but fuck you drive me crazy! Do you have any idea how scary it was for m—for all of us to just have this Derek-shaped void in our lives? Like it wasn’t enough that you were chasing this murdering she-wolf on your own—“

“I was with Braeden!” Derek interjects again but it’s no use, Stiles totally speaks over him.

“—but then she told us you guys separated and then that was the last we heard of you! Like it was fucking scary okay? If it was anyone but you, I wouldn’t be going batshit crazy but man what happens if you get caught in something bad? Do you have any idea what your track record is when it comes to winning a fight? Like aside from that one time you beat up Scott when he was a little wolf baby?”

“Hey!”

“Oh fuck you, I’m totally right!”

Derek sputters. “I broke that berserker’s face off in Mexico - what about that?”

“Well, I wasn’t there for that, was I?”

Derek frowns. “That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

“Derek,” Stiles sighs. “I really don’t have time for your rationality, okay? I’m trying to be angry at you so please let me do that.”

Derek snorts. “Okay, Stiles. I apologize for being rational. Please continue lecturing me about my tendency to lose every fight.”

He doesn’t have to be near Stiles to see him rolling his eyes and smiles to himself.

“I — just — I missed you, asshole,” Stiles breathes. “I always thought—“

“What?”

“Nothing, never mind,” Stiles denies.

“Stiles.” But Stiles stays silent on the other side so Derek says his name again.

“I always thought when things calmed down that it’d be different,” he starts off and then quietly, “For us, I mean.”

This time it’s Derek’s turn to stay quiet.

“I thought we’d move somewhere past all our shit to building something together.”

“You were with Malia.”

It’s a feeble excuse but Derek clings on to it anyways.

“I’m not anymore. Haven’t been with her since coming back from Mexico.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? That’s it?” Stiles scoffs.

Derek huffs. “What do you want me to say, Stiles? Yes, okay? I’ve thought about it and I want all of that but wanting that and being deserving of that are two different things.”

“Deserving of what? Happiness? God, Derek, you being a martyr is so 2012,” Stiles rebuts easily.

“Deserving of _you_ , dumbass!”

Stiles falls quiet. “Oh.”

“I deserve happiness, I know I do. But so do you and I’m not sure I can give you that,” Derek admits softly.

“That’s so full of shit. Where did the other rational-you go? I want him back now.”

Derek can’t help it, he laughs.

“Derek—,” Stiles starts.

“I want you to meet Seb.”

“Uh, who?”

“He’s my godson. I want you to meet him,” Derek rushes to say, not pausing to think about how crazy he might sound to Stiles. “I know you have to go back to school soon but I really want you to meet him. And Nate and Eliza, his parents. And Lilian and Mrs. Hudson. They’re a little crazy but I want to meet them. I want you to — fuck, Stiles — I want you to come see me. I want to show you everything I’ve been seeing for the past few months. I want you to see the mountains and the water and the people here and—”

But Stiles is Stiles after all; the guy who picks up a shovel and nods when someone he cares about says they need to hide a body. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” Stiles repeats like it was just that simple.

Derek feels lighter than he has in years. “Okay.”

Maybe it was always that simple.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up at: [tumblr](http://hales-republic.tumblr.com) // [twitter](http://twitter.com/halesrepublic). 
> 
> Send me prompts, flail with me over Hoechlin's eyes, let's be friends - the whole shebang.


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